


Haikyuu!! tripping over your words, Part 1

by Nautilus_Daixy



Series: Tsukishima x Yamaguchi - tripping over your words [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Awkward Tsukishima Kei, Fluff, M/M, Sickfic, Tsukishima Kei is Bad at Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:28:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22512487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nautilus_Daixy/pseuds/Nautilus_Daixy
Summary: When Yamaguchi gets sick during practice, it's hard for Tsukishima to pretend he doesn't care about everyone on the team, especially the green-haired pinch server...Part one of a series with at least three parts. (slow burn)
Relationships: Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Series: Tsukishima x Yamaguchi - tripping over your words [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1619728
Comments: 3
Kudos: 116





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Haikyuu!! Sickfics 2](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20676059) by [kuromantic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuromantic/pseuds/kuromantic). 



> This work was inspired by Lonely_Broccoli 's sickfics, so please go read those cause I really enjoyed them :3  
> This is my first time publishing to Ao3, so sorry if the formatting is all wonky, I haven't quite figured it out yet. Also, I really appreciate comments on how to make it better!

The sound of Hinata and Kageyama’s increasingly loud antics stung in Yamaguchi’s ears. Normally, the high energy, high volume duo helped keep everyone motivated during practice- as much as they would never admit it- but today, Yamaguchi was off. It was just a bit harder than normal to get out of bed, and pressure was building behind his eyes, though he would only realise it about halfway through the day. It was a collection of little things that continued to pile on, and it was starting to become a problem.

The air around him felt thick. He felt as though a thin membrane separated him from reality, leaving him to bask in his feverish haze. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut in an attempt to lift the film of sick from his eyes. 

“Yamaguchi, nice serve!”

The first year flicked the ball into the air and noticed it felt slightly heavier than usual. Jumping into the air, he reached up and hurled the ball across the net with a downright mediocre serve. His stomach came alive as he landed, angry at him for the volatile movements. 

“Oi, Yamaguchi,” called a familiarly deep voice. Tsukishima stood a bit in front of him, glancing from the corner of his eye. “Is everything alright?”

It was impossible to hide anything from the tall middle blocker. Of all his teammates, Tsukishima was by far the most observant. 

“I’m fine, thanks.”

Tsukishima was unconvinced, but decided to drop it. Yamaguchi felt he needed to practice to keep up with the other first years, but more than anything, he hated causing problems. He was silently grateful Tsukishima hadn't caused a scene. That being said, he could feel his stomach becoming increasingly agitated, like a wasp trapped in a boot. 

Maybe I should just practice some receives right now, he thought.

“Asahi, nice serve!” he yelled, and a wave of nausea climbed up his throat in protest. 

No matter what he seemed to do, Yamaguchi’s implacable stomach would fight back with increasing ferocity. Suddenly, he became acutely aware of the hot gymnasium lights beaming down on his flushed cheeks. He looked down at his hands and wondered when they had gotten so clammy. 

Yamaguchi assumed the force of a strong serve connecting with his gut. Barreling forward onto his outstretched hands, he knew his stomach would not tolerate one of Asahi’s strong blows. He had just enough time to look up and note the horrified look on the Ace’s face before hot liquid rose up his throat and spewed onto the gymnasium floor. Bile stung at his breath. 

“Oh my God, Yamaguchi threw up!” he could hear the mix of pity and surprise in Noya’s voice. 

“Look what you’ve done, Asahi!” Screamed Tanaka. “You served so hard he puked!”

Yamaguchi stared at the floor. He wasn’t paying attention to the squeaky choir of shoes racing towards him; in fact, he might not have noticed. Slowly, he leaned back and sat down with a thump.

“Yamaguchi, what happened?” Hinata’s concerned voice stood out amongst the chatter. 

“I’m fine,” he finally responded. “I just need a minute.”

“You’re clearly not,” stated the tall blond with unwavering certainty. “Come on, let’s just skip this stupid argument and get you home.”

“Tsukishima’s right,” insisted Daichi, soliciting a flurry of agreement from the others.“You’re in no condition to be playing volleyball.”

Yamaguchi’s eyes stung as his teammate’s gazes bored into him, and he felt the blood rush to his already scarlet cheeks. By now, more than anything, he wanted to leave. 

“Come on, I’ll walk you home," Tsukishima said in a low voice, reaching out a slender hand, some of his fingers still wrapped in tape. Deciding not to protest any further, Yamaguchi reached for his teammates’ hand and felt it cold under his. After being helped to his feet, he held loosely onto Tsukishima’s grip.

There was overwhelming concern in Tsukishima’s voice that was poorly masked by his nonchalant tone.


	2. Chapter 2

“Why didn’t you admit you were sick?”

Yamaguchi avoided his friend’s gaze. “I didn’t want to fall behind.”

“Did you consider how selfish that is?” Asked Tsukishima with a straight face. “You could have gotten someone else sick.” The words stung at Yamaguchi’s eyes.

“I guess I didn’t think of that.” 

Although he felt lethargically hot from his feverish haze, Yamaguchi was shivering. His senses were heightened yet his spacial awareness was considerably reduced. The light of the scorching summer’s sun blocked much everything else from his vision. Though he was acutely sensitive to the sound of his friend’s voice, he struggled to find the meaning to his words. 

“Yamaguchi, are you alright?”

His eyes darted around him as he realised he had a few seconds before a second wave of hot vomit would come barreling out. It was all he could do to turn away from his teammate before disgusting liquid splattered onto the ground with a loud, wet sound. Yamaguchi watched the contents of his stomach flow into the cracks in the pavement through teary eyes. He was surprised, then, notice an unconfident hand place itself on his shoulder. As much as he hated admitting it in his appalling state, he wanted to turn around and throw himself into Tsukishima’s arms. 

_Tall people give the best hugs_ , he thought. 

The ground danced under Yamaguchi and he felt himself sway like a sapling caught in a howling wind. 

“I need to sit down,” he managed to mutter. 

The two found a soft spot of grass and sat cross-legged beside each other. Tsukishima had some water left in his water bottle. After a moment, the blond pierced the silence:

"Listen, your house is another twenty minutes of walking and a bus ride away. We should go to my house instead. It’s a lot closer.”

Yamaguchi looked over at his friend, who refused to meet his gaze.

“Okay,” he responded meekly.In reality, he was really grateful for Tsukishima’s offer. The two stood up after a moment’s rest and headed towards their new destination. 


	3. Chapter 3

"I’m home,” Tsukishima announced as the two walked through the front door. "Yamaguchi’s with me. He’s sick.”

A woman who had to be Tsukishima’s mother turned the corner to greet them.

“You’re Yamaguchi? It’s nice to finally meet you,” she said with a smile. She had made it sound like she had heard quite a bit about him.

“You too,” he answered, nervous and hazy. His condition had already gotten much worse.

“You poor thing, you must be so sick,” she stated, placing her hand on his forehead. “You’re burning up. Kei, I’m glad you brought him here.”

Even if Yamaguchi wasn’t her son, she was a mother after all, and thought must be important to Tsukki.

“Let’s get you feeling better, then. I’ll call your parents. You can stay here until they can come pick you up.”

He managed to express his thanks and painfully made his way upstairs. Tsukishima opened the door to his room and walked in.

His room was surprisingly clean. The walls had been painted a cool, inoffensive blue. His bed had been made, albeit not very well. Above his desk hung a volleyball poster and, in the corner, a small dinosaur sticker. Yamaguchi smiled.

“You can lay down on the bed,” suggested Tsukki. "I’ll get you some water.”

It wasn’t long before Tsukishima returned. Yamaguchi, who had draped his forearm over his eyes to block out any extra light, looked up with a severe expression painted across his features. Standing over him stupidly with a glass of water, some Ibuprofen, and a cool cloth was the normally reserved and effortless blocker.

“I don’t know if you want any of these, but uh, here you go.”

Pulling out his desk chair and dragging it under him, Tsukishima sat down beside his friend. Carefully, he lifted Yamaguchi’s arm away from his face, noticing how warm it was, and rested it on his chest, replacing it with the damp cloth over his eyes. Yamaguchi was practically intoxicated from the fever, and obviously his energy was being used elsewhere than his filter, because he asked:

“Kei, why do you pretend like you don’t care?”

The blond recoiled from the bluntness of the question. He continued:

“Even if you don’t say anything, I know you’re looking out for everyone. You’re always the first person to notice when something’s wrong. Even if you don’t talk a lot, you’re always observing, right? You care a lot about your friends, don’t you?”

If it had been anyone else, Tsukishima wouldn't have been sure how he would have reacted. Heat gathered in his cheeks and he averted his eyes from his friends’ simultaneously intrusive and vulnerable stare. He was clearly not quite thinking straight, and Tsukishima hoped he would forget this conversation later.

“I guess,” he muttered, practically whispering.

Yamaguchi, despite his reproachable state, smiled. “I thought so. That’s what I like about you.”

Although he didn't seem to react, Tsukki felt a bolt of electricity course outwards from his chest into his limbs, the feeling fading into uncomfortable heat. He just hoped his face wouldn’t turn red.

“Thanks, I guess.” He tried sounding as nonchalant as possible, but he was starting to sweat. He could tell Yamaguchi was too sick to pay attention to him. He was always jealous of how easily Yamaguchi could talk about his feelings. For Tsukishima, the words inevitably seemed to get caught in his throat, painfully stumbling out of his mouth. Even despite his feverish state, the words flowed out of Yamaguchi’s mouth as if it was a smooth song.

Yamaguchi heard soft, calculated footsteps walking throughout the room, and heard a light switch being switched off. He couldn't remember much after that…


	4. Chapter 4

It took Tsukishima waking him for Yamaguchi to realise he had fallen asleep. Disoriented, he gazed outside. The sky was now a much deeper blue than when he had fallen asleep. Time felt like a thick jelly, and his eyelids seemed to be working against him, yearning to close. His friend must have sensed his confusion, because he said:

“Your parents should be here soon. I figured I should probably let you wake up a bit.”

There was a long pause. Tsukishima selfishly placed his hand on Yamaguchi’s forehead.

“Your fever’s gone down, but you’re still pretty warm. You were pretty out of it.”

Tsukishima met his friend’s gaze, who was looking at him doe eyed.

"Oh my God, I feel like shit," finally concluded Yamaguchi, rubbing his eyes. He wore his discomfort across his face. A thin layer of sweat had built on his brow.

The cold struck him like a strong tide as he stood up, the ambient heat staying stuck to the top of his friend’s bed. He reached for his opposite arms in an attempt to warm himself.

“Do you want to borrow a sweater?” asked Tsukishima.

 _Of course he noticed_ , thought Yamaguchi. However, he didn’t want to inconvenience his friend any more.

“I’m fine, thanks.”

“Come on, I can see you shivering from here. Just take the damn sweater.” Tsukishima opened his closet and produced a dark grey hoodie. He extended his arm to his friend with unwavering confidence, and Yamaguchi took the article and pulled it over his head, messing up his hair even more.

It was too big for him. With his arms at his sides, the cuffs fell low on his hand so that only the tips of his fingers peeked out from under the sleeves. Yamaguchi played with the fabric between his palm and the tips of his fingers.

 _Cute_ , Tsukishima regretted thinking.

“Are you going to be ok on the ride home? Your parents should be here soon.”

“Yeah, I think the medicine kicked in. Honestly, I still pretty gross, though.”

Heads turned to the window as a car pulled into the driveway. The headlights shone in sweeping bars of light through the blinds, dancing across the walls.

“Looks like your parents are here.”

The pair walked in silence to the entryway. Yamaguchi was still half asleep.

“Thanks for taking care of me,” Yamaguchi said conclusively.

“Yeah. I mean, you’re welcome.” There he was, tripping over his words.

Yamaguchi opened the door and stepped out onto the porch. The evening air was sweet on his tongue. Turning around, he gave his friend an awkward smile before quietly closing the door behind him. Once in the car, he pressed the collar of Tsukishima’s hoodie to his nose and took a deep breath in.


End file.
